


After Hours

by rayvyn2k



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Which is unusual for me, a bit angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 11:01:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8246492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayvyn2k/pseuds/rayvyn2k
Summary: Severus visits Rosmerta after hours from time to time.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lemonade8](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=lemonade8).



> Written for the severosmerta promptfest on Live Journal. Prompt from lemonade8 "after hours". I wrote this in a couple of hours one night, it came to me seemingly fully formed. Many thanks and long wet snogs to my outstanding beta: islandsmoke who always makes what I write better.

After the last of the glassware is clean and the broom has finished sweeping up, Rosmerta takes off her apron and hangs it on a peg near the door to the kitchen. She takes the till upstairs with her and stashes it in her office. She'll tally it tomorrow, right now, she's knackered. The only thing she wants to do is to get her shoes off and get into bed.

She moves from the office into her small bedroom, sits on the edge of the bed and toes off her shoes with a groan. She doesn't know why she bothers wearing the sparkly high heels at work, she always pays for it at the end of the day. On the other hand, they make her legs look fantastic, which helps coax extra tips from the punters. 

A hand closes over her mouth, stifling her squeal of alarm. Warm breath assaults her ear. 

"It's me." 

The familiar baritone contains a hint of amusement. The hand becomes visible, as does the wizard, with the quiet _Finite_ of the Disillusionment charm. Snape slides his hand from her mouth into her hair. He turns her head toward him and kisses her. 

Rosmerta's eyes flutter closed. He teases her lips apart and when she opens, he explores her mouth with his tongue. She sucks on it and elicits a groan from him before her tongue moves into his mouth and returns the favor. He tastes of Firewhiskey and tobacco, and smells of Sandalwood and smoke. She reaches over and undoes the top button of his coat. She abandons his lips and meets his heated gaze with hers as she continues to open his coat and the shirt underneath, one button at a time. She presses him down onto the bed and lowers her lips to his chest. As she opens his clothing like a gift, she plants open-mouthed kisses on his chest. She goes slowly. She savors the salty taste of his skin as it's exposed, little by little. She follows the familiar path of silky black hair downward until she reaches his navel. When she teases it with her lips and tongue, his hips jerk up and she smiles to herself. 

His erection tents his trousers. She unfastens his belt and the first button of his fly. She kisses the soft place beneath his navel, just above his pubic bone. He growls and their clothing is banished. His erection, freed from the confines of his pants, juts proudly up. 

"So impatient," she murmurs. She kisses his crinkly pubic hair and then licks his cock from balls to tip, which elicits another groan. She smiles again and takes his cock into her mouth. She draws it out slowly and then sucks it in again. He's much too big for her to take it all, so she makes up the difference by stroking. She watches as the controlled, disciplined and unflappable Snape sheds all of the masks he hides behind under her ministrations and becomes the Severus that only _she_ knows. 

He opens his eyes. They scorch her with their black heat. Rosmerta kisses his shaft and then straddles his hips. She tries to maintains eye contact as she lowers herself onto him, but as she is filled, her eyes roll back. Merlin, he fills her as no other wizard ever has—not that there's been any others since their (affair? Friends with benefits? What the hell is it they have?) began last year. When he cups her heavy breasts, pinching her nipples, she stops thinking because it is her turn to gasp. The twin sensations rocket straight to her center. She leans forward and steals a hot, hard kiss before she begins to move. 

Severus fists the quilt and throws back his head, his face a rictus of pleasure as she rides him. His hips buck, driving his cock up into her depths on her down stroke. Their coupling is unrestrained and frantic. It's not long before he's close, and so is she. Rosmerta closes her eyes, cups her breasts and pinches her nipples. When she feels his finger on her swollen clit, she moans. One stroke, two, three...and she shatters around him with a wail. One last thrust and, with a shout, his orgasm follows. She collapses onto him. His arms snake around her and he buries his face between her neck and shoulder.

After their breathing returns to normal, Rosmerta feels him slip out of her. She casts a cleansing charm, then stretches out beside him and puts her head on his shoulder. His eyes are closed and there's a small smile on his lips. He idly strokes her back and she drowses. 

It's not long before he kisses her temple with a sigh. "I can't stay. Hogwarts is in Minerva's hands now. I can't go back there—unless—until the Dark Lord is defeated."

Her eyes pop open and she raises up on one elbow. She looks down into his black eyes and sees sorrow and resignation there. Fear squeezes her heart and radiates out to ensnare her entire being. He warned her months ago, after he was forced to kill Dumbledore, that this would probably happen. He plays his role as You-Know-Who's right hand man so well that no one trusts him anymore. Rosmerta had hoped that someone at that school would have kept faith in him, kept him safe. She bends and kisses him softly. She conceals her tears by hiding her face in his shoulder. 

"How much longer until that happens?" 

"Not long. Almost certainly tonight. Potter is back at Hogwarts." He kisses her forehead and gently extracts himself from her embrace and rises. "I must rejoin the Dark Lord. Damn it, I thought I'd have one more chance to speak to Potter." Severus looks stricken for a moment before his masks fall back into place. "I've done the best I can. I hope it's enough." He starts to dress. 

Rosmerta cannot stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks as she watches him. After he's buttoned into his armor once again, he sits down on the edge of the bed, cups her face and kisses her with excruciating gentleness. He wipes her tears from her cheeks with his thumbs and looks into her eyes.

"Stay away from Hogwarts. You'll be safer here than there." He heaves a sigh and stands once again. "I must go. After this is over, I'll come back." _If I can._ He doesn't say it, but she hears it. Before she is ready, he turns and Apparates away.

Rosmerta scrubs her tears away. She rises from the bed, waves her hand and dresses once more. She is going to rally the residents of Hogsmeade and lead them to Hogwarts.

~~~***~~~

She stands in the Great Hall among the crowd. She watches Harry Potter and You-Know-Who circle each other. She's crying because that monster brags that he's killed Severus. They are still talking about Dumbledore's death, the Elder Wand and who is its true Master. There is a bang, two spells hit each other and then You-Know-Who is dead. The people in the Great Hall erupt in cheers and Rosmerta slides down the wall to the floor, buries her head in her hands and weeps.

~~~***~~~

Later, Rosmerta is walking through the Great Hall, assisting the Healers with the less critically wounded. She is keeping busy. She refuses to think. If she thinks, she'll cry and she's cried enough today. Suddenly, there's a stirring in the crowd. They are pointing toward the door and whispering. She looks in that direction and sees Harry Potter and Hermione Granger with a body levitated between them. Her hands cover her mouth, stifling a scream.

It is Severus. She recognizes the familiar black hair and clothing. They've brought him home to Hogwarts. The room falls silent. Rosmerta feels faint. She watches the crowd part silently as they guide the body into the room. She waits for them to turn and convey it over to the makeshift morgue. She closes her eyes. She can't watch them cover him with a shroud. 

Excitement spreads through the room. The wave hits her and her eyes snap open. Potter and Granger are bringing the body over to the side of the room where the gravely injured are being tended to by Madam Pomfrey and Healers from St. Mungo's. 

_He's alive!_ echoes through the hall in excited whispers. 

A cot is conjured and they set him down on it. Pomfrey and another Healer... Smethwyck... close in. A hush ripples across the hall as they work. Spells and charms dance around Snape as they cleanse him, pour potions into him and then bandage his neck. When they've finished, Madam Pomfrey realizes they have an audience. She turns and faces the silent Hall and clears her throat.

"Fortunately, Headmaster Snape had the foresight to consume several potions before his meeting with You-Know-Who. And thanks to the quick action of Mr. Potter and Miss Granger, not to mention the antivenin that Smethwick created...well, it's not certain by any means, but the Headmaster has a very good chance to survive." 

A cheer explodes in the Hall. Rosmerta closes her eyes as unparalleled joy overwhelms her. 

_He's alive._

~~~***~~~

Damn, she is knackered. Rosmerta isn't sure if she loves or hates the week leading up to the start of term at Hogwarts. Four months after the Battle, the castle repairs are far enough along that they will be starting classes on September first as usual. She knows from the gossip she hears that Snape has recovered. He and the Trio were awarded Orders of Merlin First Class. He was offered the Headmaster job back and has accepted. She is happy for him.

After the last of the glassware is clean and the broom has finished sweeping up, Rosmerta takes off her apron and hangs it on its peg near the door to the kitchen. She takes the till upstairs with her and stashes it in her office. She'll tally it tomorrow.

She goes into her bedroom, sits on the edge of the bed and toes off her shoes. They are sensible and comfortable and charmed to change color and sparkle. Much easier on her feet. 

An invisible hand closes over her mouth. Her eyes close and her heart thumps. 

"It's me." The baritone is a bit gravelly, but heartrendingly familiar. Then he's visible and she's in his arms, sobbing. He chuckles as he rubs her back. 

"I told you I'd come back."


End file.
